The
apartment smells of fish. The neon glow from the drug store across
the street flashes red to green to white. An upright piano stands by
the window with a white guy dressed in a zoot suit playing Fats
Waller numbers. The room is hot and humid. Condensation runs down the
window glass into which has been written the words Fish Fry. A notice
on the wall written in red marker says
FISH FRY
$5
BRING YOUR OWN
HOOCH
The room is full against one wall is a pink sofa on which sits a Red McGee in a blond wig. Her twin sister also in a blonde wig leans over her and lights an electronic cigaret with an electronic match. They are dressed alike in short beaded dresses, silk stockings and round toed strapped shoes. It is impossible to tell them apart. By the door stands Artie in DJ and black tie. Around his neck is the thin strap of a sax sling. In his hand he holds a, Conn alto underslung. Other musos are in the room instruments on their stands by a drum set in the corner. A group of dancers fill the centre of the room each couple taking turns to wow the rest. The band members take to the stand and play Tommy Dorsey's theme tune, “I'm getting sentimental over you”. It's all lush trombone and high viv sax's, with me Joe Coolz playing a short piano solo. It evokes the time and the place. New York 1935. The dancers cling together in a slow fox trot. Buddy rich on drums for once holding back his power sticks. A skinny kid steps up to the mike and sings, “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” with Bunny Berrigan hitting the sweet spots on trumpet. Then we swing into Cye Oliver's Opus One. The dancers go wild Lindy Hopping all over the room. The party is taking off.
Brian is out of his sulk and playing Maitre D. announcing the late comers.
“Miss Veronica Lake.”
Veronica is her usual radiant self, no sign of bullet wounds. It is though she has her own spotlight. She slides over to the piano and rests her hip lightly on my arm. I am pleased to see her but too much the professional to let the tempo drop. She too is too much the vamp to let the weight drop. Eventually my arm begins to ache and I have to move up the stool, she sits next to me and whispers in my ear.
“Is this wise?” It has undertones of a threat.
“Just fancied a party to celebrate my expanded pad.”
“But a fish fry complete with Jenny Wizz in the kitchen.”
“She offered, turns out she's not only good in bed but an expert with the frying pan.”
“She works for the opposition.”
“In the words of LBJ, keep your enemies in the tent pissing out.”
“That still makes it soggy when you leave.”
“We could turn her.”
“Ha! Forever the optimist. The IGIA have just as much power as the IGBI and probably more mind tools than us. They are spooks we are just policemen.”
“Are you trying to frighten me?”
“Yes.”
She gets up from the stool and goes into the kitchen and picks up a plate of cat fish.
“That'll be $5” says Jenny.
“Run me up a tab. The names Veronica, Like in “I Married A Witch”
“Yeh I heard,” says Jenny. Veronica replaces the fish and adds. “Maybe later”
She returns to me and I feel her warm breath on my ear.
“She's no sleeper. Take care Joseph, you are letting your dick rule your head. I think I will have to stick around.”
“If the end of the Universe is nigh shouldn't you be on the same side.”
“Oh we are, but with different agendas. They want to find out who is muddying the water we just just want to stop the big bang.”
“Does that make me an enemy.”
“In their eyes if you're not one of them you are the enemy. They trust no one.”
“Not even the IGBI?”
“Especially not the Inter Galactic Bureau of Investigation.”
“Maybe I should join the IGIA?”
“Stick with us Joe, we are the heroes.”
“Why can't we all just hop into a teleporter and live the day before.”
“Thereby lies madness, which is why we are keeping the general hoi poloi ignorant of the end. ”
All this goes on whilst I am keeping time. The band morphs into The Basie Band and plays all the numbers from “The Atomic Mr Basie” How apt. All we need now is for Doil and Getz to burst in and make a mess. I speak too soon.
“Mr Doil and Mr Getz” announces Brian.
“Mmm, and very nice too.” Brian is obviously getting bored, and I am getting nervous. Veronica greets them and they have a huddled conversation then returns.
“We have to go, things are hotting up.”
“Now?”
“Now!”
FISH FRY
$5
BRING YOUR OWN
HOOCH
The room is full against one wall is a pink sofa on which sits a Red McGee in a blond wig. Her twin sister also in a blonde wig leans over her and lights an electronic cigaret with an electronic match. They are dressed alike in short beaded dresses, silk stockings and round toed strapped shoes. It is impossible to tell them apart. By the door stands Artie in DJ and black tie. Around his neck is the thin strap of a sax sling. In his hand he holds a, Conn alto underslung. Other musos are in the room instruments on their stands by a drum set in the corner. A group of dancers fill the centre of the room each couple taking turns to wow the rest. The band members take to the stand and play Tommy Dorsey's theme tune, “I'm getting sentimental over you”. It's all lush trombone and high viv sax's, with me Joe Coolz playing a short piano solo. It evokes the time and the place. New York 1935. The dancers cling together in a slow fox trot. Buddy rich on drums for once holding back his power sticks. A skinny kid steps up to the mike and sings, “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” with Bunny Berrigan hitting the sweet spots on trumpet. Then we swing into Cye Oliver's Opus One. The dancers go wild Lindy Hopping all over the room. The party is taking off.
Brian is out of his sulk and playing Maitre D. announcing the late comers.
“Miss Veronica Lake.”
Veronica is her usual radiant self, no sign of bullet wounds. It is though she has her own spotlight. She slides over to the piano and rests her hip lightly on my arm. I am pleased to see her but too much the professional to let the tempo drop. She too is too much the vamp to let the weight drop. Eventually my arm begins to ache and I have to move up the stool, she sits next to me and whispers in my ear.
“Is this wise?” It has undertones of a threat.
“Just fancied a party to celebrate my expanded pad.”
“But a fish fry complete with Jenny Wizz in the kitchen.”
“She offered, turns out she's not only good in bed but an expert with the frying pan.”
“She works for the opposition.”
“In the words of LBJ, keep your enemies in the tent pissing out.”
“That still makes it soggy when you leave.”
“We could turn her.”
“Ha! Forever the optimist. The IGIA have just as much power as the IGBI and probably more mind tools than us. They are spooks we are just policemen.”
“Are you trying to frighten me?”
“Yes.”
She gets up from the stool and goes into the kitchen and picks up a plate of cat fish.
“That'll be $5” says Jenny.
“Run me up a tab. The names Veronica, Like in “I Married A Witch”
“Yeh I heard,” says Jenny. Veronica replaces the fish and adds. “Maybe later”
She returns to me and I feel her warm breath on my ear.
“She's no sleeper. Take care Joseph, you are letting your dick rule your head. I think I will have to stick around.”
“If the end of the Universe is nigh shouldn't you be on the same side.”
“Oh we are, but with different agendas. They want to find out who is muddying the water we just just want to stop the big bang.”
“Does that make me an enemy.”
“In their eyes if you're not one of them you are the enemy. They trust no one.”
“Not even the IGBI?”
“Especially not the Inter Galactic Bureau of Investigation.”
“Maybe I should join the IGIA?”
“Stick with us Joe, we are the heroes.”
“Why can't we all just hop into a teleporter and live the day before.”
“Thereby lies madness, which is why we are keeping the general hoi poloi ignorant of the end. ”
All this goes on whilst I am keeping time. The band morphs into The Basie Band and plays all the numbers from “The Atomic Mr Basie” How apt. All we need now is for Doil and Getz to burst in and make a mess. I speak too soon.
“Mr Doil and Mr Getz” announces Brian.
“Mmm, and very nice too.” Brian is obviously getting bored, and I am getting nervous. Veronica greets them and they have a huddled conversation then returns.
“We have to go, things are hotting up.”
“Now?”
“Now!”
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